The Past is Gone
by The Song of the Felines
Summary: You know what Mapleshade did, but do you know about Aine and Cullen's past? Read this story to find out. Co-Written with wildfire210
1. Chapter 1

Hey, Song here!

I'm here with a new story.

I'm sure all y'all are familiar with Murderer, the awesome story written by wildfire210, right? Well, wildfire210 and I are co-writing a story about the two rogues Aine and Cullen. If y'all want to find out more about these two rogues, read this story!

P.S. I know what y'all are all thinking. 'Song, why are you starting a new story, when you should be updating Manipulation and Land of the Wind?' (Well, most of y'all are thinking that, right?) To tell y'all the truth, I currently have writer's block for those two stories. If y'all have any ideas, PM me.

We are accepting four rogues, so send them. I will choose four rogues, so make them good.

On with the story!

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Prologue

A beautiful pale golden she-cat was thinking, curled up with her four kits. She was thinking about the mistakes she made, wishing she had made better choices. She shouldn't have been on Mapleshade's side. She shouldn't have watched Mapleshade murder innocent cats. Now Mapleshade is dead. The she-cat thinks about something she banished long ago from her thoughts. She thinks about her past.

But the past is long gone, isn't it? It will never resurface, right?

You couldn't be more wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

Hey Guys, It's Song here!

The OCs search is still on, so submit those cats!

This chapter is Aine's.

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Chapter One

A young kit woke up to darkness. She was only five days, so her eyes were sealed shut. She started sniffing for her mother. She quickly found her, then started to nurse.

"Yes my darling Aine, drink up, so you will be strong." her mother cooed softly. 'So that's my name.' Aine thought to herself. 'I like it. _Aine._' She opened her eyes, and was suddenly engulfed by the sunlight.

"It's too bright! Turn it off Mommy, please!" Aine squealed, burying her face in her mother's fur. Her mother laughed softly. "It's alright Aine, you'll get used to the sunlight." Her mother purred softly. "Why don't you play with Sapphire?" Aine looked confused. "Who's Sapphire?" As if on cue, a small, but pretty, pale gray she-kit with lovely sapphire blue eyes bounded over to her, followed by two more kits.

"Hi! I'm Sapphire! What's your name?" she mewed. "I'm Aine. What are their names?" Aine asked, motioning towards the two kits. "Oh! That's Morgance," Sapphire pointed towards a lovely white she-kit with pale aquamarine blue eyes, "and Zaira." she pointed to a beautiful jet black she-kit with icy sky blue eyes. 'They must be sisters.' Aine thought, noting that they all had stunning blue eyes, albeit different shades.

They laid down on the ground and looked up at the clouds. "Look!" Sapphire meowed. Aine looked up and saw a...what did her mother call that creature? Oh yes, a deer. A lovely cloud deer.

Soon, Aine became sleepy. Her mother gently placed her in her nest, where she quickly asleep, dreaming of the fun her and her friends would have the next day.

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So, so, so, sorry this was short. You just can't really write anything about a kit. Don't worry, wildfire210 is probably writing Cullen's chapter.

Quiz: Which kit did ya like?


	3. Chapter 3

_Hey guys, Song here!_

_This is wildfire210's chapter!_

_Enjoy!_

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Calm, happy voices filled the den, their tones laced with excitement. The kit perked up his ears, swiveling them over. He had heard these voices many times over the past few days, just beginning to learn how to tell them apart. The first had a quiet, gentle voice, often mixed with soft purrs. The second was deeper than the first, a bit rough around the edges. He was now ready to see what they looked like, and who they belonged to.

Slowly but surely, he cracked one eye open a slit, than opened it all the way. He blinked once, twice, stretching his jaws into a yawn before taking a look around. The first being that met his gaze had piercing light green eyes, widened with joy. He let a tiny yelp when he saw how close they were, but quickly recovered. The being had a glossy pelt of black fur, with a slash of white parting the fur on her shoulder.

His mother.

"You've opened your eyes at last," she whispered, as if afraid that if she spoke too loud the peace would be shattered. She leaned forward, her whiskers barely trembling. "You'll be a fine member of our band, won't you now?" She murmured lightly. She rasped her tongue over the kit's forehead, drawing him close with one ebony forepaw. She shut her eyes, taking a deep breath. The kit remained motionless, looking up in awe.

The kit stared up in wonder at the cat who had spoken. That had accounted for the first voice, but what of the second? He scanned the room, hoping to see something that could give him a clue. A slight shift of shadows gave him a hint. A large, broad-muscled tabby emerged, a limp bird dangling from his mouth. He was a bright fiery color, thick black stripes slicing through his pelt. Like a tiger, only a smaller version. "I'm here."

Yes, that definitely was the second voice. But he knew it couldn't be his father. He took a quick glance at his paws just to make sure. They were black, the same gleaming shade of black as his mother's, only they were mixed with streaks of brown. No, that could not have been his father. Still, the tabby sauntered over, dropping the bird in a dusty heap. "You still haven't named those two? I thought you would've done it by now."

Two? There were two? Where was the other? The kit scanned the den, catching a glimpse of a another small being nestled in their nest of moss and lichen. This kit had more brown than black mixed into his pelt, but had a scent very much like his own. A brother. Where there anymore? He turned around, shifting his gaze and sniffing the air, trying to catch hold of another scent. There were kit settled back into his mother's warmth, turning his attention back to their conversation. He was just in time to hear his mother hiss back sharply, ice lacing her words.

"Like it or not, the custom were I lived is different from yours. I will _not _abandon my traditions and customs, nor do you have the right to try to persuade me to do so. However, you have a point. I'll name him now, but I'll wait for the other to open his eyes before he's named. Do you understand Stripe?" She hissed, trying to hide her anger and failing miserably.

Stripe bowed his head, knowing better than to argue with Ashna. She had always been spirited, keeping a firm position in her beliefs. Her kits would probably possess the same spirit as she had, and the cunning of their father. "_He would've been proud," _Stripe had thought on more than one occasion, _"If only he had lived to meet them." _"I'm sorry Ashna. Feel free to continue."

"Such a handsome little tom," She mumbled, circling her kit and eyeing him carefully. She paused, tilting her head to the side and drifting deep in thought. "Cullen," She said, looking at her kit curiously. "That'll be your name. Cullen. My handsome little boy." Cullen gave a little squeal of delight, rushing over and leaping at her paws. He now had a sound, a name, a definition. She smiled than, a sad sort of smile, giving a low purr of contentment.

Stripe looked over his shoulder, at the few feeble rays of lights that had manage to breach the den's entrance. The den had recently been inhabited by a family of foxes, ever since he had drove them off, it had made a suitable den. Temporarily. It was only for a while, just until they could meet up with the rest of their band. It wouldn't be long now. Just a few more days, and than both kits would be strong enough to make the journey.

He looked at Cullen and his tiny brother. Cullen was springing from side to side, attempting to catch his mother's tail. His brother was curled up in a frail feeble ball, his breath barely stirring the composting leaves surrounding his nest. Stripe knew that these few happy days before their journey would be some of the happiest in their lives. Up ahead lay a path of hardships and struggles, where the strong ruled, and the weak perished.

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_Song's A.N: I liked this chapter Wildfire, much better than mine._

_Review, my fellow kitties!_


	4. Chapter 4

Hey guys!

So, I'm working on some one-shots at the moment, but figured I should work on the Past is Gone. I know, Manipulation and Land of the Wind have not been updated in a while, but, tell you guys what, how about I update every one of my stories for Kwanzaa/Hanukkah/Christmas/Winter Solstice? You get a new chapter for the holidays, and maybe a new story! What do you think? Anyway, onto the story!

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Chapter Four

Aine was playing with Sapphire and her sisters when her mother came over.

"Aine, your father wants to talk to you." Niamh said.

"Okay, Mama. Bye Sapphire, Morgance, Zaira!" Aine followed her mother to her father's den, where he was dining on a vole.

"Hello Aine." he meowed. Aine dipped her head respectfully. "Aine, I don't really think you should be playing with those kits." Deverrell continued. Aine tipped her head to the side. "Why not?" she asked. "They aren't like us." he meowed. "They don't have pure blood like you."

"Da, what's pure blood?" Aine asked again, clearly curious. "It's when your blood is perfect, and you are better than anyone else." Deverrell explained. Aine's mother growled under her breath. "Deverrell!" she hissed. "Couldn't you have waited until she was older?"

"She needs to learn this now! She is my heir, and I expect her to associate with other pure blooded cats!" Deverrell growled. "Well, do you see _any _pure blooded kits around here? I didn't think so! She should have a normal kithood, not be stuck playing by herself! Morgance, Sapphire, and Zaira are perfect playmates for Aine!" Niamh snarled, very angry. Deverrell growled out something that Aine could not make out.

Tired of her parents arguing, Aine left the den and headed back to the nursery. "Hey guys." she meowed to her playmates.

"Hey." Morgance mewed.

"Let's play!" Zaira squeaked. The kits agreed, and Aine ran into the nursery and got a clump of moss. She brought the clump to her friends, who eagerly helped her make a mossball. After several minutes, they made the moss into a lumpy and misshapen ball. They passed it to each other, squealing every time they hit the ball. They soon grew bored, then decided to playfight. They leapt on each other, then tussled. They grew tired, then padded into the nursery.

"Good night, guys." Aine mewed. "Good night, Aine." the three sisters squeaked. Aine curled up, then fell asleep.

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Very short, but I will make up for it, don't worry.

Love y'all!

Onyx


	5. Chapter 5

_Song's Note: I liked the story wildfire210!_

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Chapter

A full moon hung in the sky, wide, shimmering in all its splendor. Stripe waited, his eyes gleaming in the dark. A lonely, pained cry echoed throughout the trees. Probably a wounded animal of some sort. Stripe ignored it, gazing up at the stars. A cool breeze blew in, ruffling the fur on his pelt. He relaxed, closing his eyes, accepting the cold caress of an invisible hand. He had needed that.

"Uncle Stripey?" Cullen shuffled in sleepily, sitting down beside him. The kits paws were splayed, his eyes blinking wearily. He was exhausted, and Stripe knew it. He, his mother, and his brother had been journeying for the last few days. He had not received a mouthful of food, nor a wink of sleep, in the past few days. This was taking its toll, the thin bones jutting out of his scrawny pelt. Anybody could've killed him with a good kick in the ribs, and he would've been too tired to protest. "I'm hungry." he whimpered.

Stripe sighed. There had been no sign of prey since the moment they started. What they could salvage was only what they could handle, nothing fit for a kit. Even then, the scraps were not enough to sustain Ashna and him. Soiled, dirty pieces of meat, that nobody but them were desperate enough to eat. Still, how could he explain to a kit, barely a half a moon old, that there was no food? That there was nothing he could do to fill his stomach?

Stripe lay down beside him, stretching out his paws in front of him. "You'll get it soon enough," he lied. "Your mother's gone hunting; it shouldn't be long now."

Cullen lay down as well, curling up against him. "Tell me a story." he mumbled. He looked up, his eyes brimming with hope. "Please?"

"Alright," Stripe began, wondering which story he should tell. There were so many; legends, ancient myths, personal experience, and plain traditional. He decided to go with the legend, his favorite kind of tale to both here and tell. He determined to tell a story he had loved from his kithood, a story his own father had used to make his eyes bright and his heart pound. At the least, it would take Cullen's mind off of his hunger.

"Once, long ago, there lived a cat named Malka. Now, young Malka was unlike the others in his band. A weak, scrawny kitten, with a scraggly yellow pelt, long gangly limbs, and a twisted gaping jaw. His claws may have been sharp, and his fangs may have been poised and ready battle, but despite this, he remained an outcast. A hinderance. A disgrace in their eyes."

"As Malka reached adolescence, he had set out to prove himself. But what good could he do? He was too clumsy to hunt, too weak to fight, and to slow to scout. He could not be of any use to his clan. Or so he was told. More than anything, he wanted to be loved. Accepted. Admired. Nothing would stand in his way. Despite his appearance, Malka possessed a brave heart, a determined spirit, and a pure mind."

"A spirit, the guardians and protectors of the rouges, saw his plight. That spirit, dubbed Satchika by name, had taken pity on him. Out of all the guardian spirits, Satchika was said to be the most beautiful, with gleaming white fur, a sleek slender body, and eyes that held as much wonder, mystery, and beauty as the galaxies themselves. She held a love like no others, and a kindness in her heart for misfortunate souls."

"Satchika watched Malka for many moons. In time, she fell in love with the courageous, strong-willed rouge. She wanted to do something to help his plight. One day, when the moon was full, she appeared to him. She transformed him, making his matted dingy pelt a thick golden one with a mane that flowed like silk. His limbs were strong and powerful, his jaw straightened and broad. He was a large, magnificent creature, one that couldn't help but be respected. But she was not finished yet! She gave him a deep, strong voice, a roar that would make the trees themselves tremble at their roots!"

"Satchika transformed herself the same way she had Malka. She became the same wonderful creature he had been, except she did not bare a mane. Her eyes, however, still had the depth and beauty of the stars. Together, they ruled the forest with justice and love, leading to a golden age of prosperity! And thus, these two became the first lions."

Cullen rested his head against Stripe's shoulder, his eyes dreamy, the tale still fresh in his mind. "I wish I could be like Malka..."

Stripe rasped his tongue over the kit's head. "You will be, some day."


End file.
